Charms: The Cereal?
by Arda-Xanth
Summary: How come it's ALWAYS smart, pretty teenage girls that magically get transpored into the wizarding world? This time it's a crude, creepy, bald guy! Watch out, Hogwarts!
1. Default Chapter

**Charms--The Cereal?**

_"A Man's Remote is His Seceptre...I Mean, Wand."_

A/N: This is a _parody!_

Disclaimer: You probably can tell I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_ Click, click, click_.

George Lee stretched his stubby legs out before him and itched his bulbous belly, while the other hand swiftly changed the television channels. A pair of bloodshot blue eyes squinted at the screen.

_ News, news, spa ad, Girls Gone Wild...Ooh, free pizza!_

This obese forty-something, who could do well with a few days of nothing but veggies, extended his hairy forearm and felt around the folding table for the phone. Shoving some Twinkie wrappers to the floor, he finally found it, without having looked away from the television.

He hit speed-dial, ordered the two-for-the-price-of-one deal, and heaved himself up from his armchair. Brushing the crumbs off of his stained shirt, he walked upstairs to change clothes and comb over his bald spot. He pulled something from the over-flowing laundry hamper, put it on over the same undershirt and a some ragged jeans. Crosing the mirror, he brushed his thinning hair and flossed.

All this effort was because sometimes a cute girl would deliver the pizza. He bought pizza so often that any woman or girly-looking male never came to his house. It was usually guys that looked sort of like him, except with decent personalities.

Finally, the doorbell rang, and he 'ran' down the stairs to open the door. Saddened to see a skinny, red-haired teenage punk, he paid for the pizzas and Pepsi. Forgetting the tip and stealing the boy's pen, he returned to the living room.

He sat in the ratty chair,--which he had found sitting on someone's curb--and took up the pizza slice in one hand, the remote in the other.

_ Poof!_

George was standing in front of a weird sort of classroom. Everyone was stirring big, bubbling pots, but they all glanced up and gawked at him. A menacing man in flowing black garb glowered down at him.

"What the hell?" Gorge muttered.

Driving away from George Lee's empty house, Fred Weasley was laughing to himself. Market Research was always so interesting.

* * *

A/N: Want me to continue? Let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Charms: The Cereal?**

_"Boil, toil...double...soil? Double Potions."_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...-grumble-

* * *

George Lee, this disgusting Muggle, was every bit as stupid and craven as he appeared. In fact, his mere existence nearly justified Draco Malfoy's bias. The _only_ reason it did not was because Hermione Granger stood so well against his staring.

The very moment he materialized in front of her desk, he started leering at her with his beady eyes. For once in her life, she moved as close to her assigned partner, Draco, as possible, since it was quite apparent that he was trying to look down her undeniably modest shirt. He actually had to crane his head forward.

Even Draco was not amused, and everyone was puzzled. George was no wizard, due to the fact that he could not have just popped into the dungeon, besides the garishly obvious reasons. Voldemort would not have use for a Muggle, right? How else could he have come?

Severus Snape was perplexed like his class. He was wary of casting a spell: Suppose this Muggle was really some sort of illusion, and would react violently when attacked with magic? Knowing this, he decided that Dumbledore should come immediately, but he could not leave the room.

He gestured for the student in the corner while watching the Muggle and apologizing to Hermione in his mind over and over; he should have been paying that corner a bit more attention. Snape had been signalling an outraged Ron Weasley, but his partner, Neville, believed that Snape was indicating him. The poor boy stood up, then tripped over Ron's bag within two paces.

George turned around amazingly quick for one of his girth, to goggle stupidly at Neville. Only then did he notice that the whole group had sticks raised, all about a foot long. He still had not noticed the professor, who was scowling and trying to inch his way into the storage room to get a few pre-made potions just in case.

After making a lewd remark to Lavender, still standing in the aisle with some extra ingredients and furiously trying to yank her revealing skirt down, George returned his gaze to Hermione. She had her wand aimed for him, and the boy beside her as well.

Of course, George didn't know these were wands. It would have had the same effect if they all pointed the chalk in his direction. He was just as puzzled as the rest now. Thinking on it, he wasn't sure how he ended up here, or where here was. Grimacing in concentration, he analyzed.

"Oh, I think I saw a movie like this...Is this one of those suicide cults or something?" he leaned over and asked Draco.

"Err...No..." he answered, shifting his weight nervously. He glanced quickly over to the corner where Neville had fallen and nearly cursed out loud. The idiot had landed on his wand, and accidentlly hexed himself. Snape was frantically trying to undo this while Ron was furtively crossing the chamber.

Not that George paid any heed. He was occupied with checking Granger out. It wasn't just her though; Hermione happened to be nearest, and too afraid to move. Her eyes were bright with tears, she kept tapping her feet against the floor anxiously, her lower lip was pinned beneath her teeth. Draco could feel her shaking where she had pressed herself to his side.

He wondered if she thought that this appalling creature had a connection to Voldemort, thus making him a sheild. Of course, just a glance towards Potter would discredit that, he assumed. Also, the Slytherins, children of Death Eaters, wore the same expression of befuddled fright. While the Gryffindors were waiting for the Dark Lord to transform from this stupid blob of flesh, the Slytherins were all expecting for a chilling voice to declare itself ruler, over Voldemort even. All because of George Lee.

There also was the fact that Hermione had never experienced anything remotely like this situation. That the perverse gawking and comments were coming from this dirty Muggle over twice her age made it more traumatic. It wasn't helped by Snape being as baffled and powerless as they were.

Draco Malfoy was endowed with several less savory attributes. Among them was bigotry, and he was prejudiced against literally millions of people: Muggles, mudbloods, any race save Aryan, all Muggle religions, the elderly, the poor, and on and on. One form of discrimination he took no part in though was sexism, nor was it advocated by the Death Eaters. Even a mudblood like Granger was undeserving of this treatment.

In the middle of some statement about the school uniforms, Draco interrupted and said "Hey, this is my girlfriend. Mind laying off?" It wasn't spoken offensively, more in the manner of a comrade, as though it would not bother him a bit if George went on to objectify one of the others.

Hermione did fairly well at keeping a straight face as Draco reluctantly placed one arm around her trembling shoulders, but began laughing, jittery, panicked. Over George's shoulder, Snape nodded encouragingly while hastily stirring a vat of electric blue liquid.

Seeing that, other pairs rapidly formed, house disregarded for the most part. Pansy and Potter happened to be partners, and edged a fraction of an inch closer, but some couples put up a more convincing performance. Blaise Zabini actually had Lavender perched in his lap, and neither seemed to mind too much. Eloise Midgen was resting her head casually on Dean's shoulder, but they did seem to avoid contact other than that, though Dean was just as casually toying with her hair. Fortunately, there were more males in the class than females.

"Oh, right." George muttered while looking around the classroom for a new victim. Daft as he was, even George recognized that everyone suddenly was in non-platonic pairs. While George bumbled around, only now taking in more of his surroundings, Draco peered over to the doorway as he was attempting to assuage Hermione.

Ron was still gawking from the portal, apparently still trying to choose who he despised more. His face was flushed scarlet like his hair, his blue eyes narrowed coldly. Draco mouthed the words: _Go, you stupid git!_ Merely to annoy him, Draco idly adjusted his arm so that he was caressing Hermione's neck instead of her shoulder. That spurred Weasley, and he took off running, after casting a weakened silence charm on his feet and robes.

At first, Hermione didn't notice any difference as she followed Georage around the dungeon with her eyes, itching to curse him but knowing better than to do it. Only after several seconds did she say for Malfoy to stop, and not unkindly, but she was about to start crying.

He halted immediately, not overly keen on about Granger anyway, and began watching the Muggle. He was examining a portrait on the wall of a dark-haired witch with an owl on her shoulder, entirely entranced. Draco could practically see the greed in his stupid, unshaven, slack-jawed face.

Most of the others were eyeing Snape as he bottled the solution. Though the pupils tried keeping track of what he was adding to the cauldron, they did not recognize many of the items, and couldn't tell what incantation he was muttering over the stuff. It had to be powerful if it required a chant, and the lot was mildly reassured when he slipped a glass container of the now blue-white solution into his pocket.

Finally, Snape made his presence known. It was not the best action were this man a spy, or under Imperius, but he couldn't envision this Muggle as a spy. Who would he be working for? Even if he was not as dim as Snape perceived, he should be using stealth in that situation. As to the latter possibility, the same concepts applied.

Still, his class had to feel some security and order. Snape drawled "Sir..." from his gloomy desk. He stepped towards George, who was rather startled, and for good cause. Snape had made himself as intimidating as possible.

Whereas he had been incensed just minutes ago, he had forcibly calmed himself so that his demeanor was cold as the ice his wan skin resembled. In his hand was a thestral skull, once used in Necromancy, which he no longer practiced. Just to be safe, he kept his slim fingers placed over the blood-writ runes, though Hermione was likley the sole person in the room that could decipher them, other than himself.

"Ah..." George said, shrinking back in his bulk, and sidling over as though he would dart to the door. A Slytherin girl, Eglantine Gabriel, nonchalantly extended her leg and knocked the door closed.

Snape grinned in a wicked way, stroking the bleached dome of the skull like a cherished lap dog. He stared continuously at George, unwavering, ophidian eyes like pinpoint voids. George was visibly unnerved, more than that in fact, but terrified. It was only then that he understood that he had somehow gotten involved in something dangerous.

"Don't hurt me..." he whimpered pathetically. Snape cackled and replied demurely "I wouldn't dream of such a thing." The professor snapped his bony fingers and conjured a crystal chalice, brimming with blood, to distract the man.

Draco found it fascinating, along with the other Slytherins, while Gryffindors winced and gagged. Hermione made a choking sound in the back of her throat, and Draco kept himself from chuckling only to see what would happen. As Snape sipped from the goblet, George Lee blanched and looked away, only noting then that there was blood coating his hands.

"How can he be doing that here? Surely that is dark magic" Draco whispered.

"It's his own blood...Look, his wand is poked through the skull at him. I don't think it counts if it's self-inflicted, does it?" she answered after a long pause during which she observed.

"What about his hands?"

"Just a glamour."

Draco nodded and they both were taciturn again, watching. Nothing was happening though. George was petrified, gawking at his crimson hands, trying to wipe the blood away on his shirt, sweating with his deep-set eyes wide. Snape leaned against the desk, staring at George in a predatory way while drinking the blood. His class sat still as stone and looked on.

Everyone jumped when an ink-splattered Ron walked hesitantly into the dungeon, trailed by Dumbledore.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I made up my own curse. Aren't I horrid? I even had Draco act decently(except that he's just about a Nazi). Shame on me! Notice, if you will, that he wasn't doing it because he likes her or anything. I don't have any passage about his heart breaking to see his secret love so hurt...Anyway, you can flame me if you want, so long as you **REVIEW!!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Charms: The Cereal?**

_"Oh, this is a STD clinic!"_

A/N: Oh how I love this story...So fun! Six solid paragraphs of panic! Thanks for the reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...But how do you know I'm not him?

* * *

Oddly enough, Dumbledore seemed highly amused by the whole spectacle. Perhaps it was amusing, really. Amiable as he was, Dumbledore soon took in the situation, or most of it. The sight of Hermione and Draco together was quite paradox indeed. The Muggle was an aberration too, but hardly a major problem. It was perfectly plain to see the Gryffindors frightened and Slytherins amazed in Potions class, though the means was a nifty charm he'd never seen.

"Do be kind to our guest, Severus." Good-naturedly, Dumbledore flicked his wand and the blood became pink lemonade, quite sour to judge from Snape's face, unless he was just disgruntled at having his game ruined. Snape did not argue, but watched calm as ever from his desk, while the students did much the same.

Approaching George Lee, who looked nigh onto fainting--and no surprise considering how much work his heart did--Dumbledore offered the man a lemon drop of all things. George stuttered a refusal and Dumbledore cheerfully ate it himself.

"Well, Mr...?"

"George...Er, Lee."

"Mr.Lee, then, if you'll come along to my office, we'll have this worked out in no time at all. You come too, Severus, and I'll find Minerva. Ron, would you please get Mr.Flich to watch the class. He's in the Great Hall, last I checked. Oh, and ten points for Gryffindor. Ten to Slytherin as well, for your nobility, Mr.Malfoy." Dumbledore said in a rush, and with immediate chaos resulting.

George panicked and raced to the far end of the room, yelling he wouldn't go anywhere with Snape, and even more terrified now that pink lemonade was gushing from his hands. Draco was very loudly defending his honor and utter lack of nobility while Ron was fervently seeing to Hermione, having decided that Draco had taken undue liberties. Those two were ready to get into fisticuffs, with many of the other pupils jumping up to represent their respective house, the peaceful couples gone. A few were trying to prevent that fight, while Harry was trying to hush Simone Anderson, a flighty Gryffindor who kept shouting that Voldemort was coming--Yes, using that name.

Hermione managed to stop the escalating brawl, but only after both Draco and Ron had accidentally punched her. Neville dragged her to an out of the way corner, where she searched for her wand. Neville offered to heal her broken jaw, but she declined. That might have ended well, but George Lee ran right into Neville, and the unfortunate boy was hit with the curse meant for the Muggle. He collapsed, pinning Hermione, all his limbs immobile.

George Lee continued darting precariously around the spacious dungeons, still free only because of some ill-placed students. Dumbledore was still treating the man like a frightened cat, trying to coax him while Snape counterproductively made threats and did something else, no one could tell what.

George now knocked over Harry and Simone into a cauldron of greenish liquid that was being mixed before this interruption. Compounding the fact that it was Neville's potion, several drops of pink lemonade had been added, and the stuff had been cooking far too long. When the two emerged, there wasn't anything on their bodies but the remaining green drops. Amid some interesting comments from Malfoy about Harry's orientation, and Lavender defending Harry, for reasons quite obvious to any of the girls looking that way, George Lee was making catcalls to Simone, of course.

Ron, in his haste to either save Hermione or to keep her from observing Harry, was sprinting across the room and his elbow brushed Snape's blue-white vat. The liquid pouring out swiftly ate a hole in the stone floor. Snape, who was bent down, furiously peering into the chasm, was directly in George's path, and the screaming, stupid Muggle tripped, falling into the catacombs. Luckily, it was not any great height.

With amazing speed, Dumbledore cast a transportation spell and George was sent to his office, with Fawkes to look over him while Dumbledore restored order. Harry was blushing, Simone was in tears, Hermione's jaw had swelled, Neville was as embarrassed as Harry, and Ron repeatedly tried to yank Neville off roughly. Draco was now quite envious of all the attention Harry was getting, and was attempting to make up for it, Blaise and Lavender were in a gossip-worthy position, Eglantine Gabriel was shreiking, having been given a pair of translucent fairy wings, and Pansy kept jeering at poor Simone. Snape was being utterly useless, focused on repairing his floor, and Peeves had made an entrance.

Dumbledore sucked on his lemon candy, uncertain where to start. Minerva took over with the unwelcome aid of Mr.Filch, leaving Dumbledore free to tend to the Muggle.

* * *

"Let me put it this way, Mr.Lee," Dumbledore said, seeking a way to explain, "you are at a school; I am head here, and both Severus and Minerva are teachers. Do you understand that much?"

"No, he's a Muggle, sir, of course he does not." Snape bitterly interrupted, still sore over the large patch missing in his classroom.

"Severus, honestly." McGonagall chided.

"But...but..You did..._spells_!" George called, bewildered, as though he'd try fleeing.

"It is a school of magic." Dumbledore said sympathetically.

"Magic?"

"You know...unicorns, giants, dragons." Snape told him, marking each creature listed on one long finger.

"Oh, dragons! Like Puff the Magic Dragon! Is this a rehab center? I've been there before. Are you sure somebody wasn't smoking something? I could have sworn that you all had spells and stuff." George said, visibly relieved.

Snape gawked at the man, struck dumb, but he still couldn't get more stupid than George Lee. McGonagall's patience was strained as well, and Dumbledore looked weary.

"No, Hogwarts is--"

"Oh, it's a STD clinic? I went there one time...Asked this nurse on a date but the bi-- "

"Sir, may I suggest a memory charm?" she asked.

Snape answered before Dumbledore could and explained "We have to find out why he's here though. We can't use Veritaserum either, because he could be under Imperius."

"What?" George asked. It was plain to see this would take awhile...


End file.
